A Family For Kid
by MySoulHeroEaterAcademy
Summary: I might continue this, but this for now is just a short story for Death The Kid Week, Family Monday.. I do not own Soul Eater. WARNING: A little gory.
1. Wounded

It was hard to move. Not like that was a problem. I felt so at peace, so calm, so unaware of what had even happened to me. It's not like that was a bad thing. Surely I had enough struggles up to that point in my life to deserve some peace of mind and body.

And suddenly I was being shook. What was trying to disturb my peace of mind? The wound didn't hurt. It really didn't. It felt numb, almost while I was in this calm state of mind. It wasn't until I heard the voice of Liz and Patty, that at first came like muffled speech, break into my ears. They were yelling, screaming, pretty much crying. Why were they like that?

And then I opened my eyes, my burning eyes. It was like a slap in the face, how quickly I remembered what happened. I was sent on a mission to fight a very dangerous enemy. My father was sure I could handle it, but he had underestimated the enemy's power. I was in the middle of fighting said enemy out in the Smokies, that being where the enemy was hiding out, when the witch shot out a massive blast of... I'm not quite sure. It was too fast for me to dodge, and instead of trying to use Liz and Patty as a she for they were in their weapon form, I threw them to the side out of habit. Being a Shinigami, a blast of this proportion could have easily killed me, none the less my weapons even if they were in their weapon form. The blast had easily left my organs exposed, spread some of my intestines out of my body and left me nearly unconscious, bleeding furiously. I think the only reason I had not yet died was because my body managed to stop be bleeding, which had left the ground and my hands soaked.

I didn't feel the pain until I became aware of the situation. Up until then I felt fine. Liz and Patty were both in tears. The ground around me was red with my blood, as were my hands. I could finally feel the pain of my wounds, scratches, gashes, open wounds that would have killed a human in minutes. "Kid, please don't fall asleep." Liz sobbed, holding my hand. I re-positioned myself from laying on my side to laying on my back. That hurt. Liz and Patty instantly noticed I was fully awake, Patty dialing up Lord Death on the special mirror phone we were given for this mission.

"How are you feeling, Kid?" Liz asked. I tried sitting up but she pushed me back down onto my back. "don't get up, Kid. You're in no condition to." she warned.

I wasn't sure how to reply. I knew what happened; I wasn't delirious. I knew why I was being held down; I wasn't an idiot. I was about to ask where the enemy had gone but I could hardly speak, instead my breathing became rather difficult and I coughed up blood.

"Oh my God." Liz began crying more, hugging my chest which was slightly charred from the blast. I could tell a few of my ribs were broken. "Please don't leave us, Kid. Please! Family doesn't leave family behind. We're here for you. Just hold on, and when help arrives, keep holding on."

Patty crawled over to us, the phone put away. She had contacted them. Help was on the way. She too, in tears, hugged me, her face ending up closer to mine than Liz's, who had her's planted against my upper chest. They were trying not to be rough with me. I could tell by the way they avoided touching my wound as much as possible, though it did take up a good chunk of my body. "Kid..." Patty brushed my bangs away from my face. Liz and her looked up at me. I have no doubt my fear of death was starting to show through, the irony that is was. I thought I was ready when I was practically asleep, but hearing Liz refer to us as family made me think very much otherwise.

When I was younger, I was very lonely. My father, though he gave me anything I asked, did not give me company in my own home. I had to visit him, and even then it wasn't the kind of company I had wanted. Honestly, as mature as I was when I was puny, I wanted him to visit places with me, go get ice cream with me, cuddle me, watch a movie with me, talk to me, play with me, and just do all kinds of father son activities which we never did. Sure I'd hug him when I visited him in the Death Room. Sure he taught me how to be a Shinigami. What he didn't give me I knew I needed, but because I didn't want to bother him, I rarely asked after the first couple times failing. Seeing kids go to school every day made me long for friendship, but when I did try going to public school, I was bullied and kids were afraid of me. I didn't like it anymore so I ended up getting privately schooled in my own, large, vast and empty mansion. Home is where family's at, goes a certain saying which I couldn't for the longest time relate to. My home wasn't the Death Room, not was it my mansion. I was, you could say, though spoiled with toys and etc. etc., in a sense, not trying to be hurtful to anyone, homeless.

That didn't change until I met Liz and Patty. After a long time of warming up to each other, the atmosphere of Gallows Manor changed greatly. For once I didn't feel so alone, though I lacked the companionship of my father. I felt like something had been filled, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it of what it was.

It wasn't until the moment, me laying nearly dead on the ground with my weapons hugging me, that Liz called us family, that I could put my finger on it. Even if we were not biologically related, we were as close as any sibling, any friend, and I realized that's what I was missing with my father; family that was actually there.

Liz looked me dead in the eyes, her own eyes red with tears. "I love you, Kid. We love you." Patty nodded to this. "You're our family and we won't leave you behind, but you just can't leave us. We need you. We need you so much and if you die now, I don't know how we'll make it. I don't know anymore."

I wanted to say,_ "I love you, too."_ but that would have been too harsh on my ailing throat. So instead I took as deep of a breath I could, though my breathing had grown quite fast and shallow, and I waited for help. It had become my mission to live. Not just to live for my weapons. Not just to live for my friends.

I would live for my family. I would live for them, because they would live for me. Family for once had true definition to me. I wasn't going to let that go.


	2. Awake

The irritating sounds of machines filled my ears. My eyes were closed, refusing to open, as if they had a mind of their own. I wish I'd lose my hearing, at least temporarily, to block everything out that I don't want to hear. It would be nice to have that relief.

I know my weapons aren't allowed in the room. Liz and Patty would cause a road block for the doctors that operated and check up on me. I want to see them, well, hear them, but of course I couldn't speak to let them in.

Come on! I'm death itself, and now I may become truly a part of _it_. I still can't believe the irony. Luckily with the doctors help, my chances of wholly becoming one with what I am is decreasing rather quickly. I am a fast healer, and I know that's helping out everyone currently dealing with the mess I am.

Through some power of will, I'm not sure how, I forced my eyes open. At first everything was bright and horrible and I had to squint, but my eyes adjusted and I could soon clearly see the hospital room I was in. It smelled like disinfectant, and it was all white with things here and there to throw off any balance I _should _have been blessed with.

If not for all the pain I feel, I'd be a lot more relaxed, okay with my situation. Frankly, I was not okay. I didn't feel good at all. I didn't feel safe, or grateful to be alive. All I wanted was to see my father, see my weapons, maybe my friends if I had the energy, but I couldn't even do that. I felt lonely, unlike what I felt when with them.

A woman dressed in a doctor's outfit enters the room, I'm not sure from where. I may be able to see now, but things aren't that clear. "Your eyes are open!" she exclaims, surprised without a doubt. "This is great."

I try to speak, and only then does it strike me that I have an oxygen mask over my mouth. How had I not noticed that before? I mean, it's right in front of me, right on me, and yet it crossed my mind somehow. I furrow my eyebrows. She had some sort of thing in her hand... Oh wait, that's a syringe. How did I not notice? No, I noticed, I just didn't register it in my mind.

She approaches me and takes my arm, quickly getting over whatever injection that was. It's so stupid to think they have to give me injections when most drugs don't even work on me. I feel the needle go in, and out, but that's it. It's not stinging, it's a dull pain. She puts pressure on the injection site and after a little bit, she puts on a bandage. She let go of my arm, and I see now that I already have an IV attached to me. What then is the point of a shot? Especially if it won't work anyway. She says as she does numerous other things I can't quite make out as she faces away from my bed, "You were asleep for three days after you arrived. When did you wake up? Oh yes, sometime early this morning. Of course it's difficult to tell, but judging by breathing, we knew. But you know what? Don't worry one bit. This will all be over soon."

I feel a pain in the injection site that isn't like getting the actual shot. In a nice big patch of flesh around the small hole I feel a strong burning sensation. I can see that it's reddening. The sensation of my blood pushing back on the sealed area is heavy and strong. Suddenly my blood starts to seep through the bandage, and the sticky seal turns red as the fluid drips down my arm. My body is rejecting it, but not by destroying the drug from the inside out. By literally getting rid of the drug inside my, forcing it out through my blood.

The doctor doesn't seem surprised. "Of course _that _has to happen again." She walked over to me and smiles, saying, "At least you can't talk." She pulls off my oxygen mask, and after a minute or so, my breathing becomes difficult. I can feel my lungs try to pull in air, and my throat closing off once in a while and allowing nothing to come in, or out. She pulls out my IV, and she hastily grabs a pillow from another bed in the room.

She forces the pillow onto my face, and I find myself unable to breath, unable to move her away. I try to yell, but I can't. I try to do something to counteract the attack, and my injuries make it impossible to stop her. My heart pounds in my chest. A headache fits in my skull.

Everything is a blur. The pillow suddenly burst into a cloud of white feathers, which floated down to the floor and disappeared. The woman who had just tried to kill me backs away in terror, of what, I don't know. Her arms are being sliced right before my eyes. She screams, fright in her eyes.

A few more nurses and doctors materialize in the room, not coming in through a door, they reach to her and they push at the air in front of me. In front of her. I can feel their hands on me, though.

And my body suddenly jumps from my lying position on the bed to where their hands are pushing. The pain I'm in is insanely immense. Any stitches on me are tearing and I can feel each one do so. Then it registers.

I'm holding a bloody scalpel.

My blood runs cold. I am slammed to my bed, forced down. I try to say something, anything, in protest, but they keep their hands firmly on me. One even wackes my throbbing head. I stop fighting them, and breath hard. Two people and the cut up woman leave the room, and I feel the scalpel torn from my hand. "Please," I force myself to say, "let me go."

"No! You're staying here. Don't move, dammit, not an inch!" an angry male doctor yells at me. My headache worsens.

I don't know who does it, but someone straps me down. I fight it, but don't last very long. I give up, and lay down, confused and scared.

"Why did you attack her?" a nurse asks.

"I..." How am I to answer? _I don't know_, maybe? "I'm not... sure... She was... going to... kill me."

"No she wasn't." another nurse angrily says. "She was trying to help you. She wasn't going to kill you."

"That's enough of this." the male doctor growls, shaking his head and turning away. "Three weeks and you've almost fatally injured three doctors. You've injured four nurses and, by God, I don't care what Lord Death says. You are _not _sane. You're a threat to society. To everyone." He whispered something to a nurse and they rushed out of the room. He turned to me, shaking his head sadly. "What do you have to say for yourself. She wasn't going to kill you. None of the good people you hurt were going to kill you."

"But she was!" I yell, feeling the damage on my throat begin to fade. Three weeks? He said three weeks, didn't he? Not just a few days like the one woman had said. Three weeks? I couldn't believe that. No way in hell had I been in the hospital for three weeks. And I hurt people? If anything, I only hurt the woman who tried to kill me. I saw what I saw, I lived what I lived. That's impossible. "I wouldn't hurt her if she didn't try to kill me." I find myself having an easy time speaking. It's as if all my physical pain from the wounds I sustained were gone. "You have to believe me. She tried to... she tried to kill me. Really, she did."

All of the workers look solemn at me. I can't explain how uncomfortable I felt. "No, she didn't." a nurse said. "She never did. She only wanted to help you." I start to cry, my frustration, confusion, fear all boiling over.

"Then why was I holding a scalpel?"

"That's what we need to ask _you_." another nurse said. I don't know which one spoke and when. There weren't that many of them in the room now with me. "Why? Why did you have it?"

"She tried to kill me."

"No, she didn't-"

"Why else would I have a scalpel? Explain that to me."

Everyone turns their attention to a tall man entering the room. It's Doctor Stein. My heart flutters with joy. Yes! My professor will get me out of this hell. "S-Stein! Help me! They're keeping me here. I want to go home."

Only he doesn't look like he's going to get me out of the hospital. He doesn't look that way at all. He looked depressed, really. He looked at me with those sad eyes of his. "Oh Death, I'm sorry." He comes towards me. "I feel so bad for your father."

"Why?" I ask, worried about Father, about my dad.

"The fact that you don't know only makes things worse." he scowled. "Please don't make this harder on everyone than it already is."

"Than what is?" What happened? Where were Liz and Patty, if not outside my hospital room. Where were my friends? What was wrong with my father? No one was telling me anything.

I don't know for sure what happened after I said what I said, but everything went black, and those annoying sounds disappeared.


End file.
